


Love Come Down

by MidoriKurenaiYume



Category: Fate/Zero, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Dialogue, F/M, First Meetings, Slight fluff, Some Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-22
Updated: 2017-08-22
Packaged: 2018-12-17 18:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11857233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MidoriKurenaiYume/pseuds/MidoriKurenaiYume
Summary: Haughty businessman Gilgamesh goes to a law firm. Arturia happens to be the attorney.





	Love Come Down

**Author's Note:**

> Short one-shot set in modern day, about Gilgamesh and Arturia's possible first meeting.
> 
> Title: from a Kalafina song, part of their album 'Seventh Heaven' ;)

...

…

...

Bringing forth all the patience she was able to muster, Arturia held back a sigh.

She knew the type of man who was in front of her: arrogant, patronising, believed to be better than anyone else yet didn’t have a single thing to be a distinguished person by any means, or anything to be actually proud of.

But enduring was fine – soon he would be gone.

Disdainfully glancing around the office, he observed her only briefly before declaring, “I’m here for a will.”

She nodded, her brain immediately switching to work mode.

“About a relative who passed away?”

She would have usually been more polite and respectful of grief, but he didn’t seem to be in mourning, and he was far too conceited to be deserving of her consideration.

He seemed rather amused as he gave a negative answer to her question though.

“Not at all. In fact, I’m here to write my own.”

“Oh,” she replied, slightly surprised. That was a much rarer occurrence, since he appeared to be rather young, and it seemed odd that this arrogant person, who clearly didn’t think highly of her office, requested her aid for a will.

But wondering about it was pointless.

“Please follow me then.”

She let the intercom open – so to be able to hear if any other clients came in but making sure nothing could be heard from inside the office – and escorted him inside. Even if she didn’t have any scheduled appointments for the rest of the morning, it was best to be prepared nonetheless.

As she sat down in front of him after offering him a seat, which he didn’t take, she saw him raise an eyebrow.

“I need a lawyer for this,” he specified, eyeing her with condescension.

She barely held back from scoffing. What a jerk.

“That would be me. Now, if we could get started, Mr. …”

“Gilgamesh,” he easily completed, but still looking unconvinced, he pointed out, “The studio’s name is ‘Uther Pendragon’.”

She nodded, again holding back a sigh.

“I am his daughter, Arturia Pendragon. For the correct drafting of the will, I need your ID and documents first, please.”

He inclined his head, ignoring her words.

“A person I trust recommended this place, claiming that ever since it opened a few years ago, there was a rapid growth due to the capability of the head lawyer, and my friend always referred to this place with the name Uther. How much is your father involved?”

“Not very much, considering that he’s been dead for fifteen years,” she replied, bluntly. “However, I dedicated this studio to his memory when I opened it. In case you have other questions about the competency of this place because I was the one to welcome you at the entrance, my secretaries are one on maternity leave, the other out on a dental emergency.”

She transfixed him with a chilling stare. “Now you will forgive my tone, but we have wasted enough time already. Writing a formal will requires a couple of days at least, but if we could complete most of the formalities right away, it will all be done before tomorrow afternoon. Your documents, please – and if you haven’t the contents of the will already in mind, I suggest you start writing you’re your plans immediately. Here’s pen and paper,” with a swift movements, both were placed in front of him, “or, if you prefer other methods, there’s an audio recorder next to your left hand or a computer keyboard on your right. Feel free to choose. Oh,” she added, standing up, “while I check your documents, would you care for coffee?”

There was a brief silence, and then he laughed out loud, making his honest, amazed mirth evident.

Startled, she stared at him with some slight uncertainty. She would have expected him to be silent and sullen, perhaps intimidated, not so openly amused and–

Wait, was that _respect_ _?_

He was appraising her, his crimson eyes twinkling with even more amusement, and then presented the documents she had requested.

“This is far more entertaining than I thought,” was his odd remark, before he finally took a seat.

She had another instant of hesitation. Apparently, he had not been questioning and doubtful because he wanted to insult her, but because his previous information, coming from a source he seemed to trust, had been inaccurate.

Before she left the room briefly to make the copies she needed, he also asked for black coffee – no cream, no sugar – and then declined the invitation of writing down the will, claiming he already knew what its contents were going to be and would therefore tell her directly as she prepared the draft.

Once she was back with his documents and coffee for both of them, she started to ask him specific questions, taking swift notes in order to later formally compose the will as he wanted it to be.

As was inevitable, she ended up learning quite a bit about him in such a way. Mr. Gilgamesh, who had just turned thirty, was an immensely rich man, and she was surprised – although she remained completely professional about it – that he was choosing to divide his empire among a couple of people and then several very thoughtful charities after his death. That was something that she couldn’t help finding odd, especially considering both his arrogance and his apparent disdain for people in general.

She had just finished typing the first formal draft of the will, when he suddenly questioned, “How old are you, Ms. Pendragon?”

Her eyebrows rose abruptly as her hands froze on the keyboard. Who did he think he was?

“Aside from not being relevant in the least, that is also a rather forward question, Mr. Gilgamesh. Why should I humour you?”

He sighed and briefly glanced to the side.

“To spare me the trouble of having to look at your degree hanging on the wall to find out your date of birth.”

She narrowed her eyes and frowned, while he only grinned at seeing her expression, and she shrugged mentally before she relented and reluctantly acknowledged, “I’m thirty-four.”

His gaze was piercing and he seemed ready to continue with more personal inquiries, but she was not going to allow that.

Clearing her throat, she asked a few more questions in order to finish typing and then printed the outlined document, making sure to show it to him to ask whether or not he was satisfied with it.

Her client – because that was all he was, no matter how intriguing he may be – examined her work carefully, an extremely sharp look in his eyes, and she could see that, no matter how lazy and bored he had appeared to be at the start, he was not a man whose intelligence was to be underestimated.

He nodded briefly at her, confirming that everything was as it should have been, and she leaned forward to take back the papers, informing him, “Very well then. I will take care of the entire procedure; all I need is for you to come by the office tomorrow to finalize–”

“I’m afraid I won’t have the time to come by tomorrow,” he interrupted her, looking at her face intently as he said that.

She lifted an eyebrow.

“I need a couple of signatures on the completed document, otherwise it won’t be valid.”

To her slight irritation, he merely smirked mysteriously and went on, “I’m formally giving you the honour of being my date at Iskandar Rider’s new office building’s inauguration next week – as it will be an event of unenviable boredom, there will be plenty of time to sign the will and conclude this entire transaction.”

His eyes seemed to become slightly questioning, but he still uttered with complete confidence, “You are the kind of person who listens to the news and reads newspapers, and given your reputation, you have surely received an invitation.”

To her chagrin, she had to admit that he was right. It seemed that reading people easily was a talent of his, whereas maybe she had been too hasty in categorizing him when she had first met him.

She had indeed been invited to that very exclusive event – it was also publicized everywhere, and she knew it was going to be tedious to say the least – but that wasn’t what she was focused on at the moment.

“You are asking me out,” she half-stated, half-questioned.

His smirk widened.

“A rather distasteful way of putting it, but yes, I am.”

She was silent for a few long moments, avoiding his gaze as she concentrated on putting a label on the new folder where she put the draft of his will, on which she was going to work later. She knew that attending the event was going to be unbearable, and she was not looking forward to spending an entire evening doing nothing. Plus, she was going to need his signature on his will as soon as possible to make it valid.

Eventually, she slowly conceded, “As irregular as it is, it can be arranged.”

His victorious smirk made her briefly question whether she had made the right choice, but the intense look in his eyes, while not quieting her worries, made her feel more confident about her decision.

She was going to take a chance and see how it turned out.

It was certainly nothing she couldn’t handle, after all.

...

…

...

A year later, the former Ms. Pendragon found herself having quite a few arguments and several discussions with Gilgamesh to convince him that he needed another lawyer, because by law – since they were now married – she could no longer be the one to legalize his will.

Gilgamesh was not unaware of this. The only reason why he was so reluctant was that writing his will was what had made him meet the woman he had immediately recognized as the only one worthy of being his wife, and he did _not_ intend to associate that memory with anything else.

Arturia could only roll her eyes and hide a smile at her husband’s strange sense of romanticism.

...

…

...

**Author's Note:**

> I chose to make Arturia a few years older than Gilgamesh for once, because why not? :P  
> Thank you so much for reading ;)


End file.
